


hay fever, nay fever

by ivefoundmygoldfish (melonpanparade)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/ivefoundmygoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How utterly ridiculous that he, Mycroft Holmes, who could cause the governments of entire nations to collapse without even lifting as much as a finger, wasn’t immune to the curses brought about by blasted hay fever. And nor was he immune to the changes spring brought about in Gregory Lestrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hay fever, nay fever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Sherlock Rare Ship Bingo](http://sherlockrareship.tumblr.com/bingo) [Round 1](http://sherlockrareship.tumblr.com/post/118110204834/bingo-round-one) (prompt: spring).

If there was one thing Mycroft knew for sure, it was that he hated spring. He hated it with a fierce passion, and spring hated him right back.

While everyone else was fawning over new life—smelling the newly-blossomed flowers, gushing over newborns, revelling in the warm sunshine—he was too busy trying to stop his nose from running like a tap, or trying to breathe through two very congested nostrils. There was no in between.

How utterly ridiculous that he, Mycroft Holmes, who could cause the governments of entire nations to collapse without even lifting as much as a finger, wasn’t immune to the curses brought about by blasted hay fever.

“Mycroft, you alright?”

And nor was he immune to the changes spring brought about in Gregory Lestrade.

If spring hated him, it adored Gregory. Gregory, who sat across from him, with his top button undone, and his sleeves pushed up to the elbows, revealing, tantalising…

It was just a shame that his eyes were becoming too watery to actually _focus_ properly _._

“We can end it here for today if you’re not feeling well,” continued Lestrade, concern still evident in his voice. “No pressing matters, since Sherlock has stayed out of trouble this past fortnight. For his standards anyway,” Lestrade added with a laugh.

He refused to let the wiles of nature get in the way of his fortnightly meetings with Gregory, not when they’d finally made the shift from stilted shop talk to something a little more informal. At least the next meeting would be at a location of his choosing, and the rooms in the Diogenes were suitably pollen-free. A much more desirable alternative to St James Park and the myriad pollen carried along by the breeze.

Fighting the urge to sniff, he replied, “Thank you for your concern, Gregory, but I assure you, I am perfectly fine.”

The wind blew, and Mycroft’s nose twitched.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

And without any further warning, Mycroft sneezed. Twice.

He’d barely had enough time to turn his head away, but at least he hadn’t sneezed all over Gregory’s face.

That didn’t mean it was any less mortifying, especially when there was mucous dripping in plain sight that needed to be wiped away. Keeping his head turned to the side, away from Gregory’s line of vision, Mycroft desperately fished inside his pocket for his handkerchief.

“Here,” Lestrade said, pushing a packet of pocket tissues towards Mycroft. He looked away as Mycroft blew his nose. “I’ve learnt to carry these around ever since—well, ever since Sherlock, really. There are some chemical concoctions that I wouldn’t want on my handkerchief.”

Equally mortified and miserable, Mycroft returned the packet. “Thank you, Gregory.”

“No problem.” Lestrade frowned. “You should have told me you suffer from hay fever; we could have gone somewhere else.”

“It was not necessary.”

“Not necessary. Of course.”

“Besides, the view here is lovely.” _The view of you, that is_ , Mycroft silently amended.

Lestrade laughed and then patted Mycroft’s arm, eyes shining brightly. “Come on, Mycroft, let’s find somewhere indoors. You can appreciate the view another day.”

Inclining his head in agreement, Mycroft stood up, watching the slight ripple of muscles beneath the back of Gregory’s shirt as he led the way.

_Or today._


End file.
